When I was younger
I was a serious stoner. I'd get up early so I could have a joint before setting off to cycle to work. I'd then stop off at an underpass half way for another one. Then another during my half hour lunch break to keep me bubbling along till I got home where I'd put away another 8 - 10 or so before bedtime. You get the idea !

Can you imagine the disappointment then when my dealer says he'll be round later in the evening AND HE DOESN'T SHOW UP ? Possibly more of a nightmare than a disappointment.

Thankfully though that's all water under the bridge as I've been a total abstainer now for about 5 years. (Except when I go to T in the Park when I fall of the wagon for three days. Roll on 11 July. I'll be really, really, disappointed if it rains.)
( Ramsay Tupper, Fri 27 Jun 2008, 12:55, Reply)

I'm going no where
I don't know about you lot but my biggest disappointment so far is that even though I'm good looking and I think I have a good personality, I STILL don't get anywhere with the ladies!

Sure on the saturday night I pull more than my other friends but why in the HELL do none of them ever see me as more than just a friend?

I will never understand girls, if I'm really honest my biggest disappointment in life so far is not being able to understand what the hell goes on in a woman's mind.

Are there any other blokes having this problem? I'm 17 going on 18 and im wondering will this get any bluddy better with age?

Oh and just a quick edit, my poor old nan always used to say that when I was older all the ladies would be after me, well guess what she was bluddy wrong. I should have put that in the other QOTW but i was a bit late so thought I'd throw it in here as it seems relevant.
(Scobro is still here..., Fri 27 Jun 2008, 12:52, 23 replies)

Lack of Force Powers
Frankly, at 31, I'm still gutted that I can't use the Force.

- Jedi mind tricks on co-workers and bar staff
- Fingertip lightning with which to smite my enemies
- Magic jumping powers
- Choking chavs with my mind-powers

Admit it, it would have been awesome.
Stupid reality, I'm off back inside my brain.
( DrPrunesquallor is determined to post more as of, Fri 27 Jun 2008, 12:49, 3 replies)

Daddys wee girl
When i got home from work the other night and was sitting eating my tea my 5 year old daughter came up to me in a new pair of dungarees and said:-

d - "What do you think of what i'm wearing?"

me - "You look just like Oor Wullie"

d - "Oor Wullie? Don't you mean Willie just like boys have in their front bum"

After nearly choking on a mixture of disbelief and turkey drummers I asked her where she had learned this and she said "The big ones" meaning the older brothers and sisters of one of her pals.

The dissapointment comes in knowing that as she's getting older i no longer have control over what she learns and the fact that as time goes on she will not rely on me as much as she has done in the past and it's only ever going to get worse.

On the bright side we found out my wife is expecting again.
(Harold's hip man!!, Fri 27 Jun 2008, 12:35, 4 replies)

Naked Lunch?
There were two things wrong with that title.

Shit, I'm sorry.
(JoeyJoeJoeSnrShabadoo - happy now?, Fri 27 Jun 2008, 12:25, Reply)

Adverts that lied to me as a child
I remember thinking that sub-par Disney Sci-Fi The Black Hole was just the greatest thing EVAH when I was a nipper. Imagine my joy when I found out you could buy a toy of the little hovering robot, VINCENT, from it.

Now imagine my disappointment one Christmas morn when I discovered that, contrary to how it appeared in the TV advert, the bastard thing didn't actually hover of its own accord, what with that technology not actually existing in the early 1980's. Or now, for that matter.
(vertigo, Fri 27 Jun 2008, 12:23, 3 replies)

A Lidl Problem
I recently moved to Malta and I really want to send my mum some photos of all the weird stuff that lives in the sea, so when I found out Lidl's were doing under water cameras from the 23rd of June, for 6 eur, I was well chuffed.

Except I've been in ALL FOUR LIDL'S ON THE ISLAND and none of them have any in stock.
(hurleymurley, Fri 27 Jun 2008, 12:19, 3 replies)

friends
growing up and getting married and having babies and becoming very patronising and boring in their suddenly advanced middle age. going out once a month and then only with other couples is sooooo tedious.

for god's sake, you're 30. choosing curtains and pruning petunias is what your 50's are for. and frankly, i'm not sure i'll spend my 50's doing that, either.

not criticising marriage or kids, i should say, just the lameasses who give up everything else instead of finding a happy medium...
( rachelswipe with a fork, Fri 27 Jun 2008, 12:18, 15 replies)

education, education, education
As some of you may know, I have recently finished my PhD, which was in itself one of the bigger letdowns of my life, but the real disappointment is now.

I have spent 21 years of my life in education in the UK (ok, so not all of it was technically studying, (see here), but still). Now, when I finally have a qualification which is of any use to me, I thought, 'Great! I can get the job which has been promised to me by the media after all of this time learning!' You know, the usual 'Graduates earn more' 'Everyone should go to university says incompetent government' etc etc. So since January, I've been applying for jobs in the UK. Postdoctoral research, research assistant, college teacher, college lecturer, pharmaceutical company jobs. I've had 14 interviews face to face and 5 phone interviews (within the UK). How many job offers did I get? Yup, that's right, fuck all. The reason was either 'you're too highly educated' or 'you don't have enough experience'.

I thought it must be my interview technique, or my appearance, or my lack of a Y chromosome, but after getting feedback from 3 or 4 of the interviewers who I trusted, it turned out that they wanted me to have either at least 5 years postdoctoral research experience OR no PhD. This is for entry level (i.e low salary) positions.

I then had a phone interview of 1 hour with an eminent researcher in the USA. At the end of which he offered me a perfect (postdoc) job. So I'm leaving London today, and in a couple of weeks I'll be starting a job in America. But where the hell are all the UK jobs?!
I know of at least 5 folk (relatives and friends) who have recently graduated with good degrees who are either having to take jobs with very low pay, unrelated to their degree, or in another country. 2 of them only went to uni because their school told them it would earn them more money in the end.

*goes off in huff at stupid UK education propaganda*
( ascorbate, Fri 27 Jun 2008, 12:07, 23 replies)

Another movie one
Schindlers list was a big disappointment for me. I was told it was a real "box of tissues" film.

I only wanked once
(mon bison powered by magnets, Fri 27 Jun 2008, 12:01, 12 replies)

Dre-e-e-e-m, dream dream dream...
Here's another puberty based disappointment. I'd read the books, knew what to expect: wet dreams. "Don't worry, it's perfectly normal and nothing to be ashamed of." OK, thought I, I'm ready.

I began wanking and found it so enjoyable that I practised like a chimp. I had horny dreams occasionally, woke with a raging boner and dealt with it, but no wet dreams. I began to worry: am I normal? So I laid off the bishop bashing for a couple of weeks - no luck. 'I know,' I thought, 'I'll go to the vinegar strokes just before going to sleep, that'll do it.'

Several nights on the trot I'd slowly stroke myself to the brink, pull back, cool down, then again and again, then sleep.

Nothing! Had to give up in the end when I couldn't get my underpants on one morning.

I have NEVER had a wet dream in my entire life. Is it just me? This is something I've never felt happy discussing with anyone, but I guess you lot can take it.

I guess I'm too old now.
(Che Grimsdale Best before:, Fri 27 Jun 2008, 12:00, 14 replies)

You mean we're not...
There was, when I was a young'un (and I know not of where it lived) a cartoon by the name of "The Numbskulls". A brilliantly silly strip in which the body of an indiscriminate gent was controlled, via a series of levers and pulleys, by a fantastically enthusiastic, but frequently ineffective workforce.

They would wind up his eyelids each morning, control the apparatus that would facilitate mastication (and no doubt masturbation as well, although this would have been a deeply inappropriate inclusion), and, effectively, be responsible for his every movement and action.

In my (admittedly very sketchy) memory, the inside of his head resembled the flight deck of a woefully inadequate space craft, with the captain sat on little more than a director style chair and his subordinates charging about around him pulling levers and pressing buttons. And in my young, impressionable mind, the insides of mine and everyone else's head was exactly the same.

It was, therefore, with no small amount of utterly crushing despair that I came to learn the truth about the human body. How could it be, I would cry, that we are little more than a hugely complex and miraculous collection of atoms that manage to form an immensely sophisticated being that has, through a combination of circumstance and good fortune, evolved over millions of years into a species that has lifted itself above the food chain to be by far the most dominant and powerful creature ever to walk the earth (*breathes*), and not, as my imagination would have me believe, just empty shells controlled by small cartoon-like fuckwits who derive comedy from their hapless blundering as they pilot each of us through our daily lives.

Sometimes life is so deeply unfair.
( Moey, Fri 27 Jun 2008, 11:56, 7 replies)

Shag carpeting
looks cool .... gives me a rash
(shake'n'bake Tally Ho, Biatch!, Fri 27 Jun 2008, 11:55, 2 replies)

Today, it's
logging into b3ta, only to see

You have 0 unread messages in mocking, you've-got-no-friends grey at the top of the screen.

And no "home sweet home" thread either.

On the one day of the week I've got the office to myself during the day as well! Arses!
(happylittletulip helpless and delicious, Fri 27 Jun 2008, 11:53, 46 replies)

Sex
First proper, penetrative, down-and-dirty shag.

I chalked it up to inexperience, but it didn't get much better with time.

Now I'm a massive fan of the 'other' fun that can be had in the bedroom (shower, lounge, Dempsey's ... ) without having to do the whole 'risk of conception' malarkey.
(Dionysian Aut viam inveniam aut faciam, Fri 27 Jun 2008, 11:52, Reply)

I've just experienced my biggest disappointment
I went to the biscuit tin at work and the only thing left were these horrible cardboard looking things.

No borbons, custard creams or even a hobnob.

It's gonna take a while to get over this one.
( TGB checking Off Topic is still shit at, Fri 27 Jun 2008, 11:49, Reply)

First snog
My first proper kiss almost put me into a monastery.

I was at a party - someone's parents had hired a nightclub and sold tickets. The bar people didn't seem to mind our obvious underageness, so snakebite and black had been drunk.

J was in my year at school, and we were in the same physics class, so I knew her a bit. She was blonde and a bit dumpy. I don't know quite how it happened, but we ended up on the dancefloor. She was somehow attached to my face.

It was like being assaulted by an ill-disciplined and eager St Bernard that never, ever, needed to pause for breath.

Somehow I escaped - intact, but wondering just how the hell that sort of thing was supposed to be fun.

In retrospect, I guess it was probably her first kiss as well - so we were probably as bad as each other. The difference is that I wasn't on the receiving end of my own attempts.
( Enzyme is powered by sunlight, Fri 27 Jun 2008, 11:45, 7 replies)

Money For Nothing…

A wee while ago…when I was particularly strapped for cash, I heard that baldy belmer Martin Lewis (The ‘Money Saving Expert’ cuntsnot from Friday afternoons on Radio 2) say the following:

“Make shitloads of cash from doing surveys online! You can earn a few hundred pounds a month simply by answering a couple of easy questions for a few minutes a day! – It’s so easy! Companies want your opinion so badly that they’re queuing up to pay you big wads of dosh to help with their market research. Etc etc blah-fucking-bullshitty-blah”

Because I was desperate, lazy and as thick as a Welshman’s cock, I believed him. I gave it a go.

Guess what happened next?

…

Yup – suffice to say, after Christ-knows how long filling in forms, applying for multitudes of survey companies, getting endless promises, bombarded by popups, spam and phone calls to my house from Market Research companies after all my details were spread out over t’interweb wider than a slapper’s legs over a grubby spunk-stained mattress; and spending hours doing 75% of surveys to be hoofed out for ‘not qualifying with the demographic’. (No matter how much I lied: ‘Oh yes I am a 75 year old Asian man who has erectile dysfunction etc’)…

I totalled nowt. Not one.single.fuckspacking.penny.

What do I have to do in this world to get flipping great wadges of cash for bugger all?

It’s not too much to ask is it?

Oh.
( Pooflake braces for an onslaught..., Fri 27 Jun 2008, 11:44, 2 replies)

Big Brother
nuff said?
(The Oscillating Gibbon is eating curried squid, Fri 27 Jun 2008, 11:43, 3 replies)

Probably
Finding out that laser eye surgery meant repairing my vision and not giving me the ability to fire lasers from my eyes
(mon bison powered by magnets, Fri 27 Jun 2008, 11:43, Reply)

Comedy or lack of...
Puggs reminded me of going to see Dylan Moran live a couple of years back. I realised fairly quickly that I might as well have watched the DVD I had at home rather than shell out for a couple of tickets as it was the same routine. He's going on tour again this year...I think I'll pass.

I did see Reginald D Hunter and Russell Howard at the local comedy festival last week. Both were working on new material so it wasn't a slick routine, it jumped about a bit and they were referring to notes, but it was hilarious(in tears a couple of times it was that good)! I think I might stick with the lesser known names and smaller shows from now on.
(cmouse is pondering about life in other jobs, Fri 27 Jun 2008, 11:40, 1 reply)

First teenage sexual experience
I was 16 and gagging for any hint of a sexual encounter with a girl, but up to this point I hadn’t had much success with the ladies: the high points of my love life had been a sloppy snog in the woods after a disco and an accidental grope. Little did I realise that this would be the night!

It was a party organized by one of the girls at school. It was late, the room was almost pitch black and Frankie Goes to Hollywood was thumping out on the stereo when I found myself talking to Liz: pretty, big boobs and known throughout the school as ‘up for it’. I don’t remember exactly how but somehow we ended up sitting on a sofa, and next thing I knew are mouths were mashed together. Pretty soon we were lying on the sofa, her on top of me, still joined at the lips and I could feel little Ruddles making his presence felt. I started to worry about this, but happily Liz seemed to find it a turn on and started squirming away on top of me. Excellent!

My right arm was already wrapped around Liz. My left arm was trapped between me and the back of the sofa so I decided to try to free it so I could get a good grope of her tits without attracting too much attention from the other party-goers. I started to extricate my left hand, moving it up slowly between us and the sofa until my arm was bent and my hand was approaching her chest. But she was so tightly pressed to me that I couldn’t quite reach. Desperate for some boob-fondling action I wiggled my fingers, inching towards the holy grail, and eventually got close enough to prod with my thumb, and yes, encountering delightfully soft flesh through her top. All this time I was keeping my lips tightly attached to hers, rotating my tongue like a food mixer hoping to distract her from what my hand was up to. I guess my actions had become a little mechanical: Liz whispered in my ear “That’s so sexy”.

But it didn’t put her off: she moved a little to allow me full access to her right breast and plunged her hot tongue into my virgin ear, all the while continuing to grind her crotch against mine. A moment of wonder at how she could multitask like that fluttered through my mind. Next thing I know she’s whispering to me again: “Come on, let’s do it,” and she stood up, took me by the hand and walked towards the door, which I knew led, gulp, to a bedroom.

We went in to the room, finding a bed covered in coats, and fell on it. I felt her hand moving to my trousers. No one had ever touched me there before, I couldn’t believe this was happening to me! “Come on, I want you now,” she muttered, fumbling with my flies as I almost passed out with anticipation.

Just then the door flies open, and in comes Paul. “Hey Liz, you still want that lift back with me? I’m leaving just now.” Liz answers immediately “Ooh yes, I’ll come right away,” and stands up, smoothing out her clothes. I must have emitted a small cry of disappointment as she looked down at me as you might look on a puppy waiting to be fed, smiled, and said “Go on then, I can’t leave you like that can I?”

She knelt down by the bed, unzipped my flies and pulled my cock out. I was leaning up on my elbows, wide-eyed at what was happening. She tugged expertly on my cock a few times, then bobbed her head down in what seemed a suspiciously well-practiced movement as my spunk shot over her head, landing on someone’s suede jacket. I remember thinking, “That’ll be a bugger to get out.”

Then she’s wiping her hand on the bedspread and saying to me “See you around”. She opens the door and leaves. Paul pops his head in and winks. “Thanks for getting her warmed up for me!” Bastard.
(Smale is stuffed, Fri 27 Jun 2008, 11:26, 2 replies)

Girls
Oh yes. Girls. Bit of an obvious one, but, y'know... I was promised so much:

- Someone to share ever lasting love and companionship
- Someone to support in times of need, and visa versa
- Someone to whom I could pour my heart out to without fear of ridicule
- Someone to snuggle up to in the middle of the night
- Someone to share my deepest, darkest secrets with
- Someone to lavish with presents and attention
- Someone I could come home to after a long day
- Someone to share new experiences with
- Someone to snuggle up to on the sofa, watching appallingly bad movies
- Someone to go to dinner with, the cinema, the theatre even...
- And, last but not least, someone for... er... sexy time.

And, surprsingly, this I did get - eventually. It took a lot of "duds" before I finally found someone who fulfilled all I could want in a girly girl (2 of these duds can be found www.b3ta.com/questions/pleasereleaseme/post169593 and www.b3ta.com/questions/stalked/post119130).

However, no one warned me about the borderline psychotic episodes that occur for 5-7 days a month.

I might as well turn bloody gay.

... any offers? ;O)
( Matoosh would rather like a biscuit, Fri 27 Jun 2008, 11:23, 3 replies)

The Phantom Menace.
Do I even need to write any more?

Length: 2hrs 13mins
(Hampton St.Roker (has probably had your mum), Fri 27 Jun 2008, 11:23, Reply)

The future
Like a great many of the 1970s born generation I grew up with a diet of televisual entertainment ranging from Star Trek, Star Wars, Dr Who and Star Cops.

In the early 1980s, the memory of sending men to walk on the moon was still fresh in our minds, one had even played a round of golf there. We'd built supersonic airliners to ferry you to New York so that you could technically arrive before you left, we had a fleet of spacecraft the size of an Airbus which could be used 100x over and land like a plane. How cool is that?

Avidly reading things like 2001 the works of Niven and Pournelle, DC Fontana and of course more Arthur C Clarke, it seemed a fair bet that we'd be colonizing the moon and mining for stuff in space in no time. City sized space stations rotating gracefully in the sky? You betcha. It all looked so easy, all it needed was investment and volunteers.

How lucky I was to be growing up in such exciting times. Could I ever have a piece of that action?

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

(wavy lines and the sound of a Tardis/gunshot/screeching tyres etc as PJM wakes up in the brave new world of 2008)

So now I'm sat at my desk wondering where the hell my shiny silver space suit is. It now takes nine hours sat behind a colicky baby to fly to New York on a Boeing 747, not some flashy Buck Rogers inspired Airliner made of unobtainium with a pool table in it somewhere.

The Space Shuttle is about to be pensioned off to make way for
this:

What the cocking fuck? It's just a metal cone with seats in it, almost exactly the same as what took men to the moon forty twatting years ago. Imaginative? Arse.

This is it, somewhere between 1979 and 2008 the human imagination has died a silent death. Risk taking and pioneering spirit have been buried under reams and reams of 'Ealf an Safety forms.

Can you imagine a British astronaut stepping on the moon? Think of the Risk Assessments, Insurance Forms, Job Descriptions and two-day-walking-in-low-gravity courses costing the taxpayer more than rockets alone.

Meanwhile, the news is full of dire warnings about global warming, resource deficiencies, Peak Oil and special offers for Nokia telephones which play shit R&B music.

Can you imagine what Captain Kirk would make of that?

Kirk, Spock and some unfortunate red shirted bloke who's about to be gruesomely killed somehow are on the planet Vega XV.

Kirk is busily working his pause peppered charm. On. A. Blonde eyed, blue haired alien bird with green skin who hasn't noticed his appalling wig.

"Ensign Phaserfodder, don't stray too far from the landing party. You haven't completed the 'Vega XV Risk Assessment Policy document yet"

-sound of Girls Aloud tinnily squealing in back pocket-

"That ringtone is highly illogical and shit captain."

"Men!" (kerslap) Blonde eyed, blue haired (in a beehive of course) woman skulks off set as Wig exits stage at speed in opposite direction

Meanwhile, flying cars are off the menu still, indeed according to Al Gore I'm told that my standard of living is going to decrease in the next fifty years, so I'm more likely to end up with an oxcart.

Where the fuck is my "Mr Fusion" device like in Back to the Future, which runs on discarded coke cans and banana skins?

We've taken the easy option and stuck with oil and gas for the last thirty years instead of setting a little aside for investment in alternatives like fusion power.

Instead of trying to change society for the better, we're cowed by it to the point where imagination and an intrepid spirit counts for shit. Instead of using their imagination exploring far off worlds, children seldom venture further than a quarter mile from their home. Meanwhile, once exotic destinations have become anodyne, tamed somehow and mundane. There is no final frontier except mortgages, flat screen televisions and Playstation 3s which will soon end up on a landfill somewhere as a sad epitaph to the electronic age when a) oil runs out or b) something better comes along to enslave our imagination.

Not the future I had in mind somehow...
(Bicycle Repairman "you're also a bit of a wanker", Fri 27 Jun 2008, 11:20, 10 replies)